Boxoffice (Jul-Sep 1938)

MOTION picture exhibitors are probably, and quite justifiably, enjoying a hearty I-told-you-so chuckle over the predicament in which Metro found itself when, at the eleventh hour, the studio was forced to pay for the air time consumed over Station KECA in broadcasting the premiere of “Marie Antoinette.” The National Broadcasting Co. had allotted a one-hour period on a sustaining basis to the feature, available to all NBC affiliates desiring the program. KECA, however, slated to pipe it locally, balked at carrying it gratis and informed M-G-M that it would be perfectly willing to air the event — at the station’s regular rates. Metro, loath to forego local coverage, squawked — and paid. This situation and its significance are not without parallel in the history of the developments of radio. During the early days of broadcasting and with the erection of the first stations, the newspaper publishers of the country took the new medium for the dissemination of news and entertainment to their collective bosom, seeing therein what they considered a great new plaything which might enjoyably and profitably be used in the promotion of their publications. More than any other one group, these publishers were responsible for the rapid growth of interest in broadcasting. One day, however, these erudite gentlemen of the fourth estate awoke to a realization that they had aided and abetted in the creation of a Frankenstein which had turned on them and was rapidly sucking their publishing life’s blood in the form of advertising revenue. Too late they decided to do something about it and ever since have been trying, with very little success, to devise ways and means of checking this competitive monster they had help to develop. For months the majority of American showmen have been loudly decrying the close liaison between motion picture production and the broadcasting of ether entertainment. The details of their plaint anent how this relationship has kept Mr. and Mrs. Public ensconced in their living-room easy chairs at times when they might otherwise have parked themselves in theatre seats, is so well known that repetition or amplification is unnecessary. Thus, their satisfaction — and perhaps a ray of hope — in the tangible evidence that the Frankenstein of the airlanes, the further and more recent nurturing of which has been so closely identified with the film industry, under circumstances to its liking will turn, show its teeth, and manifest a willingness to devour its current palsy-walsy — as proven by the first bite, literally and figuratively, put on Leo’s closely-guarded coffers. “Everything Happens to Us” went before the Republic cameras this week. It features the three Gleasons — James, Lucille and Russell. James Gleason wrote the original and James Gleason is producing it. Why not change the title to: “Everything Happens to the Gleasons?” Warner Brothers is reported to have purchased the film rights to Emil Ludwig's "Napoleon" and are considering it as a starring vehicle for Edward G. Robinson. Such waste! Why pay an actor to portray the Little Corporal when Harry Warner him self has recently manifested — he hopes — such Napoleonic characteristics? And, if the Burbank boilerworks run true to form, Alcatraz will probably be substituted for Elba and tommy-guns will make their appearance at Waterloo. Or it might make a good musical , . . “The Gold Diggers at Waterloo." They were, in fact, in their last epic, despite the title's efforts to locate them in Paris. That jarring noise heard on the M-G-M lot last week was not the grinding of cameras, but the gnashing of teeth in the publicity department. That Birdwell boy had done it again. During a week when, by all logic and past performances, the •local columns, wire services and other news outlets on celluloid matters should have been almost exclusively devoted to advance information on the glamours and glories of the “Marie Antoinette” premiere, Selznick’s unpredictable publicity chief uncorked another original spacegrabber (he’s apparently good for one a week) by installing Carole Lombard to operate his department. Hollywood’s news and gossip gatherers went for the gag hook, line and sinker, resulting in the press agent activities of La Lombard hogging columns of space which normally would have been given over to Metro’s spectacular introduction of the Norma Shearer starrer. In view of the close relationship between the Metro and Selznick executive organizations, if the staging of the latest Birdwell coup during the premiere week was by coincidence, he was lucky. If by design, he was smart. In either event, the result was quite probably the same, the attracting of considerable and favorable attention to the fine Birdwellian touch. Relates Columnist-Queen Louella . . . “ Riding horseback through the fields in San Fernando Valley” . . . How many horses? Herculean, Hilarious and Halt-Pints Metro's “Marie Antoinette," debuting last week amid the setting of a precedentally resplendent international premiere, completely dominated the film capital's busy preview program. And in every respect the feature conformed to the platinum aura in which it was introduced. Lavish, stately, dramatic, tragic, it signals the triumphant return to the screen of Norma Shearer and is destined to win universal acclaim as one of the most impressive and spectacular film offerings of all times. While the feature approaches the ultimate of perfection in every department, it is the performance by Shearer which gives it true greatness. In limited space it is impossible to give due credit to everyone who had a part in the assembling of this masterpiece of artistic production. The remainder of the cast. Producer Hunt Stromberg, Director W. S. Van Dyke, the writers, technicians, et al, may well be proud of their individual and collective participation therein. Yet, despite the well-merited and universal critical accolades, the boxoffice fate of the offering is difficult to predict. That it will record staggering grosses in its roadshow and de luxe engagements seems obvious. In its present length, however, it may prove a bit cumbersome for the overloaded programs of the subsequents. Other preview offerings — Metro's "Shopworn Angel," a warmly human love story, well played by Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart . . , Paramount's "Professor Beware," Harold Lloyd's first feature in more than two years, characteristically hilarious slapstick but lacking much of the subtlety which has prevailed in previous Lloyd offerings . . . Metro again. with "Love Finds Andy Hardy," best of the “Judge Hardy's Family" series to date and a film that should appeal to all audiences because of its deft blending of humor and wholesome humanity, with Mickey Rooney again a comedy riot . . . RKO Radio's "Affairs of Annabel," a behind-the-scenes-in-Hollywood farce which, loaded with laughs and broad pokes at filmdom's ways, boosts Lucille Ball to stardom . . . 20th Century-Fox's “I'll Give a Million," a solid piece of entertainment headed for above-par reception, splendidly acted, produced and directed . . . Universal's "Little Tough Guy," fast-paced slum melodrama with the “Dead End" kids at their boisterous best . . . And the Principal-Jed Buell western, "Terror of Tiny Town," with its widely-ballyhooed all-midget cast, a natural as an exploitation feature, though the half-pint actors are Thespically amateurish. BOXOFFICE : : July 16, 1938 33